


Suscipit Gratiam

by lisswrites



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:35:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisswrites/pseuds/lisswrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He busts her out of jail. The least she can do is thank him. Set directly after 2x01.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suscipit Gratiam

She likes this part best. 

When she holds her breath and lets the shadows gobble her up, still invisible for the moment.

He steps through the threshold, kicks the finely-lacquered shut behind him. Pulls his tie open, just enough, with a single lazy movement. Lets loose a long, grating sigh and scrubs a hand over the tired lines of face.

He’s Atlas, creaking-groaning-splintering under the weight of a world of his own making.

It won’t do. 

_Boring, boring, boring._

So, Alice cuts though the silence.

“Boo.”

Luther doesn’t even start, just shakes his head minutely.

“See this?” He jabs a finger at her; shuffles out of his coat. “This is why coppers need guns- for lunatics in their entryways.”

She smiles, prim, and proper, the effect marred by the red lipstick stuck to the enamel of front teeth. It’s ghoulish.

Alice gathers her things to go. She skates by closer than she needs to, slips a peach into the warm palm of his hand.

He quirks an eyebrow at the gesture.

“For the apple, John.”

He scoffs. “Is this really how you thank me for busting you out of there?” 

The mousey brown of her new pixie cut almost makes her look demure when she angles her head up to look at him.

“ _Quid pro quo_  and all.”

He just sighs again, the same world-weary sound, holds the door open as a clue for her to leave.

“There’s a little seed inside of peach pits, you know.” She ducks under his arm, notices the cigarette packet stuck in his jacket pocket. That’s new.

“They’re full of Arsenic.  _Very_  dangerous.”

He gingerly pushes her through the threshold.

But he doesn’t lock the door behind her.

It feels awfully like sentiment. 


End file.
